


Prompts and One-shots

by Lexyqu



Category: Skulduggery Pleasant - Derek Landy
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-11 09:22:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 5,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11145546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexyqu/pseuds/Lexyqu
Summary: Pretty much exactly what it sounds like. Rating may change depending on the chapter.





	1. I lost our child

Women were formidable creatures.

Desmond Edgley contemplated this as he was stared down by his very lovely, very angry-looking wife.

“Hello, wifey,” he tried.

Melissa raised an eyebrow.

Right, no jokes. Some flattery, perhaps?

“Have I told you how beautiful you are? Today, I mean? Because you are, very beautiful.”

The eyebrow stayed raised and was reinforced by a hand on her hip.

Bugger.

Desmond hung his head.

“I lost our child,” he admitted.

His wife regarded him coolly before walking into the living room.

He followed her, confused.

Their daughter was sitting in front of the TV with a snack. Stephanie gave a little wave before turning her attention back to the show and her juice.

"Oh."

“She came home ten minutes ago, Desmond. _Alone_.”

"Ah."

"Anything else you'd like to say, Edgley?"

This was important. He had to think fast.

"I remembered the milk?"


	2. Hot tub

Wednesdays had this odd knack for being peaceful and somewhat dull. As if would-be murderers and thieves looked at their calendars and thought, you know what, let’s wait ‘till tomorrow.

With no active cases and no threat of global disaster on the horizon our brave heroes could often be found at Detective Pleasant’s abode on Cemetery Road.

What manner of conversation took place between these two hardened warriors when there was no one to bear witness?

“We should get a hot tub.”

Skulduggery Pleasant looked up from his paper. “Pardon?”

“A hot tub.” Valkyrie Cain, descendent of the Last of the Ancients, professional detective, and powerful sorceress, lay sprawled out on the couch stationed in the house’s main living room. “We should totally get one.”

Her partner watched her for a moment, then folded the newspaper and put it away.

“I heard you the first time,” he said, voice amused. “Do tell, how did you come to this conclusion?”

Valkyrie shrugged. “Hot tubs are great. Just imagine, coming home all gross from a case, covered in guts or whatever, and _wham_ , there it is. A hot tub, just waiting for you to take a dip. I could even add my healing rock to the water. Multipurpose and all that.” She grinned at him. “Smart, right?”  

Skulduggery wisely declined to comment.


	3. Teeth

Valkyrie Cain was fourteen years old and a former detective.  
   
She was also fresh out of patience.  
   
The reason for this was currently tied to a wooden chair which stood the middle of the room.  
   
She had spent the last four months looking for clues, tracking down Skulduggery’s skull to reopen the portal between dimensions and bring him home.

The man before her now, Sigvard Barren, was her latest lead and he was not cooperating.  
   
"I'm only going to ask one more time. Where is the murder skull? Tell me and we can both be on our way."

Barren's response was in harshly spoken Russian. Now, she might not have understood what he was saying but she doubted it was anything flattering or pertaining to her case.

Clearly he needed some more encouragement.

Valkyrie leaned in, mindful of the distance lest she get her nose smashed in. “Your teeth," she said, "look like they could fall out if I punch them. Let’s experiment, shall we?”  
   
Despite his black eye, Barren still managed to look smug. This time when he answered it was in heavily accented English.

"You don't know who you are messing vith, девушка. I know who you are. Zat skeleton's pet." He spat out the last word, his expression twisting into a sneer.

She stayed impassive while he spoke.

"And where is great detective? О да, I remember. The ублюдок is in _hell_ , exactly where he should–"  
   
She punched him. Hard. Right in the mouth.  
   
Two teeth fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my crappy Russian if these translations are incorrect.
> 
> девушка - girl  
> да - yes  
> ублюдок - bastard
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please review! (・ω・)ﾉ


	4. Level 67

Valkyrie wasn't sure what she'd expected when she stepped into one of the many living rooms in Skulduggery's house. She stood in the door opening and took in the sight of her partner, dressed in an exquisite if slightly wrinkled suit, seated at his desk and staring intently at the computer screen in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

Skulduggery flinched, hastily opening another window. He looked at her.

"Valkyrie," he said, and was that nervousness she detected? "I thought you were taking a shower."

She lifted a lock of her hair, indicating the droplets forming at the tips.

"I needed to dry off. You're quicker than the towel." She glanced at the screen. "But apparently you're busy."

He got up, turning off the screen, and faced her. "No. Not at all."

He lifted his hand but she ignored him. She walked to the computer and he stepped sideways, blocking her path.

"You're going to catch cold. Stand still."

"Show me what you're playing."

"I'm not playing anything."

"Alright, show me what you were playing."

"It's nothing. Just a silly game."

"So show me."

Ignoring his protests, Valkyrie turned the screen back on. Then she blinked.

"Skulduggery?"

He didn’t respond.

"Are you playing World of Warcraft?"

She looked at him but he avoided her gaze.

"It's just a way to pass the time," he said. "I hardly play."

"This says you're on level 67."

He was quiet for a bit and when he spoke she barely heard his mumbled, "Could you possibly judge me any harder?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah...
> 
> That might have been crack. I'm not sure.
> 
> Please review (；∀；)ノ


	5. A Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favourite detectives have a moment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold, 'tis the fabled rating change. Gonna go ahead and declare this Teen. Also, Valduggery, so if that isn't your thing you might want to skip this one. As always, thanks for reading.  
> Please review ( ･ω･)ﾉ

He wore a suit and she wore a dress and they were both ridiculously attractive. The man, and what a tall man he was, took her hand, pulling the dark-haired beauty into his embrace. They began swaying, moving to the soft music playing in the background. She leaned closer and laid her head on his shoulder, a soft smile on her lips.

The screen went black and the credits started rolling.

Valkyrie stood and stretched, grimacing as her back cracked. Then she fell back into the sofa.

"Ow."

She tilted her head back, grinning at Skulduggery. Deep green eyes gazed back at her, twinkling with amusement.

"Sorry," she said. His arms wrapped around her, dragging her onto his lap. Valkyrie's smile only widened when he moved her hair out of the way and started trailing kisses along her neck.

"That," he murmured into her skin, "was a terrible film."

"Yeah." He reached her ear and nipped at it. She let out a breathy sigh and reached behind her, tangling her fingers in his hair. "So many clichés."

Skulduggery hummed. A warm, calloused hand slipped under her shirt.

Xena looked up from her bed, regarding her silly humans with sleepy eyes before curling up again.

He pushed her down on the sofa, settling atop her. Valkyrie's arms went around his neck and she kissed him. Hands roamed, clothes were creased, and when they finally broke apart, they were breathing hard.

Skulduggery looked at her.

"Have I told you recently that you're utterly gorgeous?"

"No," she hummed, eyes soft and lips curled with amusement. "Remind me."

"Of course, dear."


	6. Introductions

From under his hood Ghastly stared at his best friend in utter disbelief.  

"So you're telling me," he said slowly, "you couldn’t have committed the crime because at the time you were too busy committing another crime?"  

Skulduggery, the rotten bastard, didn't even have the good sense to feign remorse.  

"Exactly," he said in that smooth voice of his. He wiped some soot off his breeches and straightened his shirt. A nice attempt that did nothing to disguise the fact that he looked a mess. If Father saw him he would more than likely mourn the loss of such fine clothes. If Mother saw him she would most definitely laugh in his face.  

The scarred mage shook his head. He then turned his attention to the person standing beside his clearly demented friend.  

It was a young man about half a head shorter than Skulduggery. He had blondish brown hair and a genuine smile. His clothes were in a similar state of disarray. Around one eye, red skin was already turning purple.  

Looking back at his friend he could detect similar evidence of a recent fight. Ghastly sighed.  

"What happened," he asked, voice resigned.  

Skulduggery sat down on a crate that stood in the alleyway the three of them occupied, looking for all the world like he owned the place and that he did not, in fact, have a bloody lip or was favoring his right side.  

"Well if you must know," he drawled, "I had just retrieved that trinket my client lost, and was making my way back here, when I decided to take a stroll through the harbor. You always meet the most delightful folk near and on ships. Isn't that right, Ghastly?" He grinned and Ghastly resisted the urge to give _him_ a black eye. Skulduggery rambled on.  

"So there I was, enjoying the sight and the smell of sweaty workers and burning coal when I happened upon this poor fellow just as he was accosted by a bunch of what can only be referred to as ruffians. I, of course, could not help but do my civic duty and lent my assistance."  

The stranger snorted and Ghastly looked at him and promptly blinked.  

Light hair had turned dark and dark eyes had turned light and the smile was now a smirk.  

"I believe it was not civic duty," the shapeshifter said, amusement coloring his tone, "but guilt that guided your actions. The ruffians paid me no mind until one of them noticed their purse had mysteriously vanished."  

"Ah," Skulduggery said succinctly. "Well. That isn't untrue."  

Ghastly lifted a hand to cover his face.  

"Skulduggery. Please tell me you didn't."  

"A strange request but as you wish. 'You didn't.'"  

Ghastly glared at him through his fingers while the stranger, now sporting bright red hair, laughed.  

"Hopeless," he said when he had calmed. He held his hand out to Ghastly. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."


	7. Late-night calls

His phone rang. This in itself was not a strange occurrence. People called him all the time. Literally. It wasn't like he slept anyway, and many took this to mean he was always available. Quite rude, really.

His phone was still ringing.

He glanced at the file he had been reading, closed it, and picked up.

"Can you sneeze without closing your eyes?"

Skulduggery blinked. Figuratively speaking of course.

"Fascinating bit of trivia," he said after a moment. "Some people, rare individuals, choose to actually start a conversation with a greeting. Perhaps even deigning to enquire about the recipient's wellbeing. Incredible, isn't it? Truly extraordinary, wouldn't you agree?"

On the other end Valkyrie's eye roll was nearly audible.

"Good evening, Skulduggery," she drawled, smile in her voice, "How are you, Skulduggery?"

"Good evening to you as well, Valkyrie. I find myself quite well. Thank you for asking. And how are you?"

"Fine.  So?"

"It is possible for humans to hold their eyes open whilst sneezing but only with great difficulty or by holding one's eyelids apart manually. It's an involuntary reflex that is believed to prevent irritants that are being expelled from entering the eyes. "

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

"Will that be all?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah, think so. Pick me up at 9 tomorrow?"

"Of course. Sleep well, Valkyrie."

"Thanks. Have fun meditating."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt bad for not posting anything in almost a month so here.  
> Thanks for reading, please review. Or better yet, if you have a fantastic writing prompt lying around, put it in the comments.   
> (=ﾟωﾟ)ﾉ


	8. Treasure Chest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of dark, maybe T rated. Not sure.

A room. Empty, save for a single box on the floor.  
   
It is plain, but beautiful. Dark wood, smooth and polished to a gleam. A simple golden latch on the front. Wholly unremarkable. Its only distinguishing feature is an engraving on the lid.  
   
Graceful loops and swirls of letters. A name.  
   
The latch flicks open easily despite nearly a decade of disuse.  
   
There's no gold. No artifacts or jewels either.  
   
Something else lies within.  
   
Velvet lines the inside of the box, the bottom, the sides, even the lid. It's soft and beautiful, a lush dark red.  
   
The color of blood.  
   
It is filled to the brim, gleaming pieces stacked haphazardly on top each other.   
   
Everything gets taken out. One by one the content is spread carefully on the lacquered floor. Groups formed along the way. These together, these apart, now a new pile.  
   
Then the box is empty.  
   
Piece by piece, the parts connect, fitting together like a puzzle. They gleam in the dim light of the room. The smooth, white surface shining.  
   
One more to go.  
   
It is different from the rest. Essential in a way that the others are not.  
   
It goes last. Always.  
   
The final piece joins the rest, clacking faintly as it connects.  
   
Finished.  
   
It lies there on the floor, motionless.  
   
Then it shudders.  
   
Another moment and it is moving. Some of the smaller parts twitch. It rises, slowly and with the occasional jerk, until it is sitting up.   
   
And then it stops again.  
   
Nothing happens for a long while.  
   
Then it cocks its head.  
   
"Hello, Skulduggery," Darquesse says.


	9. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Smoke and the gang are out doing their thing, an unsupervised, corrupted Skulduggery goes to see his partner. Rated T

The world smelled of smoke. 

Valkyrie groaned and lifted her face off the airbag-covered steering wheel and fell back into her seat, coughing weakly. Her head was pounding and when she touched it her fingers came back red and sticky. She moved her legs experimentally, wincing at the sharp jab of protest from her left ankle. Head wound, probably a concussion, and a severely sprained ankle. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. 

After undoing her battered seatbelt she tried the driver side door. The handle clacked ineffectually, the metal slab not giving an inch, and with an angry curse she abandoned it. Crawling over the gear stick to the other side, she wriggled into position and kicked the door open with her good leg, half falling out of the wreck. She managed about two unsteady steps before the world tilted and she hit the ground. With effort Valkyrie managed to roll onto her back, the action winding her. Above her fluffy white clouds traversed a deep blue sky and for a while the only sounds she heard was her uneven breathing and a faint buzzing. 

"You don't look very well." His voice, smooth as velvet, drained the tension from her body. Then her addled brain caught up and relief turned to dread. A man stepped into view, casually strolling towards her wrecked car. Brown eyes watched her. They were cold and she could see the barely contained glee in them.

Skulduggery smiled and bent down, dragging her up by the front of her coat.

Valkyrie’s head lolled to the side, ears ringing.

He cupped her cheek to support it. “Come on, focus,” he murmured, surprisingly gentle. “You have a concussion, I can’t let you fall asleep.”

“Stop…” It came out weak. She swallowed thickly, tried to say more but the world turned fuzzy, then black. 

White, hot pain shot through her, piercing the darkness, and she screamed, eyes flying open again. Skulduggery held on to her finger, twisting it further until he'd nearly folded it back completely.

"Don't fall asleep," he told her amiably. She whimpered and he released her hand. She pulled it close, cradling it protectively against her chest while the handcuffs latched onto her wrists and drained away her magic.

He picked her up bridal style and together they rose into the air.

Valkyrie didn't know where they were going. She tried to look down, tried to get her bearings, but moving her head made her nauseous. It was freezing up here. The cold seeping into her regular clothes, making her shiver. She regretted not changing outfits and with barely a thought she wriggled closer to Skulduggery.

He chuckled and obligingly flew lower until the shaking wasn't quite as bad.

"I've got so many plans for you, Valkyrie. I've missed you." 

She buried her face into his jacket, breathed in the familiar scent and fought back the tears threatening to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did I write this you ask? Because. That's it. That's my reason. This story might get a sequel if I can think of something horrific and heartbreaking, and then actually write it down.
> 
> Please read and review~ (^_^)


	10. The Big Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Tree Climbing

It was a cool, autumn night. The kind on which dark, mysterious things were done by dangerous people. Very dangerous people. People like…like, uh…  _Oh_. Like the  _Killer Supreme_.

Yes, Vaurien Scapegrace thought to himself as he stalked the darkened streets of Oregon. That was good. He needed to remember that. And, he decided, he should leave a message with, no,  _on_  the body. Something gruesome and grotesque. Then, when the authorities found it, everyone would know about him. They would be in awe of his masterpiece, stare at it in amazement and horror. It would be the talk of the town, mages of all ilk whispering with fear in their voices. Terrified at the prospect of being his next victim.

That being said, he still needed to kill his first. Alright, his last few attempts hadn't worked out but he was really feeling positive about this one.

Sofia Toil, her name was. She was Energy-Thrower. He could have picked a mortal, of course, there were plenty of them around and murdering them would be easy. Too easy. A sorcerer such as himself deserved a mage victim. Besides, the magic community wouldn't care about another mortal biting the dust. So yes, Toil was the one. And he was on his way there now.

She lived alone, just outside the city center. He'd found her address on the  _internet_ , using something called  _google maps_. He spared a moment to reflect on the disturbing ease with which one could use it to find people. That was precisely the reason he didn't have a permanent residence. Well, he used to, but you couldn't just look up Roarhaven, now could you? Vaurien wasn't sure. He should find out.

But first Toil. He could feel his heart race in his chest. Tonight was the night. He was really going to do it!

Vaurien was startled out of his thoughts by a high-pitched noise and, clumsily, he ducked into an alleyway. He sucked in some air and held his breath, listening.

Nothing. No one there.

A thought crossed his mind, the silliest notion that perhaps HE has the one who had made the sound. But, no. Surely that could not be. It must have been a rat or something.

Vaurien froze. His gaze dropped to the ground but the alley was poorly lit and he could barely make out his tattered shoes in the shadows. Something rustled behind him and Vaurien squeaked once more before leaping back into the meagre illumination of the lampposts.

He rushed across the road, narrowly missing a taxi. It honked as it passed him. Vaurien didn't stop running.

It was past midnight when he arrived at his destination, sweaty and tired. Toil's house hadn't looked nearly as far on the map. Crouching in the bushes across the street, he surveyed the building. The lights were off, a sure sign his target was asleep. She was probably lying under the covers, nice and cozy in her pajamas. Vaurien scowled and tugged his jacket tighter around him, shivering in the chilly air. He'd warm up soon enough, he was sure. And if not, surely he could make himself a cup of tea after Toil was dead. Oh, but he should probably leave quickly, before the police arrived. Toil's screams of terror would likely wake up the entire neighborhood. Maybe she had a thermos?

He nodded to himself, happy with the solution and arose. Vaurien had barely stepped onto the pavement when a thought occurred to him. How was he supposed to get in? He could break the door down, absolutely, but it would be loud. Shattering a window wouldn't work either. Why didn't he bring a crowbar!

Just as he was about to give up for the night - he could try again tomorrow - did he notice that one of the larger branches of a tree, that stood in the garden of the next house, was very near a window. Hope grew inside him. He got closer and yes, the window was open, just a smidge. His path of entry was clear.

He jumped, reaching for the branch. He missed. He tried again. Once more he came up short and this time his ankle twisted on the uneven ground, sending him sprawling onto the dew filled grass.

Growling in rage he got up and stomped to the base of the tree. The bark was rough and there weren't a lot of places for him to hold onto nor put his feet but with great effort did he manage to climb up. Slowly, he crawled along the large branch and reached for the window and got in.

His foot caught somewhere and he cursed, his face hitting the carpeted floor.

"What the hell!"

Vaurien screamed and scrambled to his feet. A woman in a robe and fuzzy slippers was standing in the room, a glass of water in her hand. Vaurien opened his mouth, already knowing the perfect threat when her features changed from surprise to anger.

"Oh buddy," she grit out, light gathering in her other hand," did you pick the wrong house."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, folks. I apologize for the lack of updates recently but this one was longer than usual so... hope you guys enjoyed it! 
> 
> Special thanks to RoseTylerInTheTARDIS for the prompt. I hope you liked it.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading, please review or send me a prompt and I'll do my best.


	11. Evil Vending Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This prompt came from TacoGuest on FF. Hope you enjoy it~  
> Rated T for a teensy bit of swearing.

If looks could kill, and if vending machines weren't inanimate objects, if both those things were true then this particular machine would be stone cold dead. It would be a smoldering pile of ash and she would stomp on it and grind it beneath her heels, laughing all the while. Since neither of those things were true, Valkyrie settled on glaring at it.

The stupid soda machine had been all too willing to take her money, oh yes, but did it deliver? No, of bloody course not! She wanted her damned coke.

Any other day, she'd have cussed out the device and been on her way. But not this time. Skulduggery and she had just spent the last 36 hours chasing some demented lunatic all across Dublin. She was exhausted, and sore, and dirty, and most importantly she was bloody  _thirsty_! She wanted her drink and this  _stupid_  machine was holding out on her.

How dare it try to deny her sugary drinks? Wasn't the whole point of its existence to dispense drinks?! This vending machine was an utter failure. Its parents ought to be ashamed!

Her thoughts continued along those lines for some time, sleep deprivation aiding both their conception as well as hindering her ability to comprehend the absurdity of them.

Fuck it, she thought after hitting its side again, and again it was to no effect.

xXx

Skulduggery ended the call, having been assured that other Sanctuary agents would be arriving soon to pick up their detainee. He headed for his partner, mentally preparing himself for the possible backlash. As snippy as his partner was when he woke her up too early, nothing compared to her temper after an exceptionally long case. He'd have to keep the jokes to a minimum, perhaps limit his speech altogether and give her opportunity to nap on the way back to Haggard.

"Valkyrie," he called, turning a corner. He halted, words escaping him.

"NOT…A… _WORD!_ "

Valkyrie was kneeling on the ground, one arm wrapped around a vending machine to keep her balance, the other limb apparently having vanished inside. She was practically radiating animosity.

"Don't just stand there," she hissed, eyes blazing, " _Get me out of here!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, did you enjoy reading that? Crazy idea, how about leaving a review? Please? And if you have a fun idea for another story, leave a prompt.


	12. Beneath the Judas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Did you know," she asks.

"Did you know?" she asks. The others flinch at the flatness of her voice but she can't bring herself to care. The magic holding them in place insures they won't interfere in what happens next.

It's just her and Skulduggery now. Just like it should be.

She inspects his face. His suit. Every inch of him. Taking note of every tiny detail as if she were committing them to memory.

He's watching her too.

He doesn't respond and anger rips through her. Razor-sharp spikes erupt from the darkness as it writhes around her in a maddened frenzy.

"DID YOU KNOW?!" she screams. Her hand clenches around the smooth surface of the soul catcher. It glows weakly, illuminating the skin of her hand. By her feet lies a pile of ash that had at one point been a gauntlet of the darkest black.

Darquesse is not an idiot.

She already knows the answer to her own question. She knows Skulduggery better than anyone, after all. But even so she wants, _needs_ , to hear him say it.

_Why?_ A dull, little whisper asks her. _It won't change anything_

Darquesse wonders if she should be concerned by the voice's presence. She had always thought her existence was unique. If it wasn't, did that mean Valkyrie had more of a screw loose than she'd initially thought?

Not that it mattered anymore anyway. Darquesse was the one running the show now.

"I want Valkyrie back."

He says it so quietly, almost gently, as if he's apologizing and it takes considerable effort to stop herself from tearing his jaw off and slamming him into the nearest wall.

She has less luck with the words and they sink into her, wiggling their way through clothes and skin and muscle. Deeper and deeper until even the intricate seals carved onto her heart can't stop them from taking up residence inside her tarnished soul.

The whisper returns. She thinks she might hate it.

_See_ , it says, snickering into the quiet of her mind.

_He doesn't want you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while but I crawled out from under my rock. Sorry for the wait (;ω;)
> 
> So in case you're wondering about the story, it's a rewrite of book 9, chapter 27/28. Instead of getting evicted from her body she stops China and catches everyone. This is how I imagine her conversation with Skulduggery going.
> 
> I know many SP readers think Darquesse is just evil and insane but I think a lot of what she does makes sense considering her character. Skulduggery says it himself, she's like a child. Just an insanely powerful child. And I think that being betrayed by people whom she, mere hours ago, decided were her friends had to hurt. Is it an excuse to commit mass murder? Of course not. But her character deserves better than being labeled as 'just your basic monster'.


	13. The Pizza Guy

24th of July, 2008

The call came in a little past 9 on Thursday evening. One medium peperoni plus, extra cheese. One large coke. Address: Cemetery road, x, xxxx.

Terry frowned.

Cemetery road? Was that supposed to be a joke? But no, a quick google search confirmed its existence and the boy shrugged, then passed the order along to the cook.

30 minutes later found Terry driving in to the street. He passed two funeral homes, one on either side, and parked on the curb beside the only house. It looked old, and there was a vintage car parked in the driveway. Terry would have liked to admire it some more but he had other deliveries to get back to.

He rung the bell, or tried to when the door swung open. It revealed a girl, about 13 years old if he had to guess. Her hair was a pretty sort of dark and her eyes immediately zeroed in on the pizza.

"Finally!" She snagged the food out of his hands, thrusting a bunch of crinkled notes his way. Terry refrained from rolling his eyes and counted the money. He started on the change but the girl shook her head.

"Keep it."

Terry blinked. She'd given him nearly twice the amount.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yeah. It'll teach him not to forget about getting me dinner." She said the last part a bit louder.

Before Terry could reply a man's voice drifted out of the house. "I can hear you," it said. "And all you are ensuring is that I am never providing you with money, or food, again."

"We'll see," the girl called back, sounding completely unconcerned by the threat.

Terry shuffled awkwardly, feeling like a piece of furniture while the two occupants bickered back and forth. Was she his daughter or something? If Terry pulled something like this his mum would definitely kill him so probably not. Maybe a niece? The guy sounded too old to be a friend.

"Uh," Terry said. The girl looked back, slight surprise on her face. Wow, did she actually forget about him?

"Enjoy your food," he told her. She shrugged, told him to keep the change, and then shut the door.

The seconds ticked by. Terry stood there staring at the woodwork for half a minute before he shook his head. He made his way back to the car and finished his other deliveries, putting the memory of the house on Cemetery road firmly out of his head.

Until a couple days later when another order came in, and then another, and another. Until finally they were getting calls at least once a week.

It was always the same girl, the same disembodied yet strangely pleasant voice, and luckily for Terry the same awkward moment while they argued over his head.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, the girl didn't answer the door. Instead there was a man who, and Terry couldn't quite believe it at the time, wore a long coat, scarf, sunglasses and the fakest wig he had ever seen. He didn't speak, merely gave Terry the correct amount and took the food before closing the door in his face.

The phone rang. Terry sighed. There he goes again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...


	14. Rules of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All's fair in love and war.  
> Gonna rate this T for a teensy bit of swearing. Also, Valduggery. But like, only 1 sentence.

"I'm not going to apologize." 

A moment passed.

"When you think about it," Skulduggery continued, "the fault is yours entirely. My actions were well within the rules stipulated prior to the game. I'm not to blame for your inattention."

Valkyrie set a pair of burning eyes his way, apparently deigning to look at him again.

"You shot me," she ground out. 

"It was a toy gun, Valkyrie." 

"You _shot_ me!"

"With _photons._ Perfectly harmless. And if I might remind you, getting shot was your own fault. If anything I should be the one upset with you."

"Why the hell would you be upset?!"

Skulduggery sniffed. He had no nose, and no lungs but it sounded like sniffing. 

"You hit me, repeatedly. And you yelled." He looked at her. "I don't hit or yell at you after losing a game. Not that something so preposterous would ever happen but still. I, unlike some, would accept my defeat graciously."

"No you wouldn't."

"Agree to disagree."

Her hands clenched into fists. She held them to her face and let out an odd, frustrated noise.

"Skulduggery."

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

"Very well."

Valkyrie let out a breath. 

"Thank you."

The silence lasted all of 10 seconds.

"What we should take away from this," he began and Valkyrie groaned, "is that I am the superior laser tag player."

"What you are is a cheater."

He jolted upright and turned to her, looking as indignant as a skeleton could. "I am not!"

"Skulduggery. You kissed me and then shot me in the chest. How the fuck is that not cheating?!"


	15. Tributary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I put myself back together, which was rather painful, then climbed out of the river and rejoined the fight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like, minuscule spoilers for book 10? But also a headcannon? Not sure how to classify this...

Skulduggery Pleasant sat.

The room was dark to match the night, the curtains drawn so even the yellow gloom of the lamppost was kept firmly outside.

It was fine. He didn't mind the dark. Never had.

Skulduggery Pleasant sat, and he thought.

_"I put myself back together-"_

That was what he had told her all those years ago as they sat in Gordon's kitchen. Valkyrie had never asked him about that. He supposed she'd had other things on her mind at the time. Things like living skeletons and secret wars and magic.

Valkyrie.

She'd be asleep, wouldn't be up for several hours. Or maybe she was awake. He knew she had nightmares. He ought to call. To make sure she was alright. After all, these last few days had been…stressful.

_Smoke's hand on his ankle. Smoke's voice penetrating his skull and twisting through his mind._

_Valkyrie on her knees, his hand curled around the gun, his gun as he pressed it to her head. So very ready to shoot and paint the walls with that remarkable brain._

He realized he was holding his phone, his finger hovering over the speed dial.

The rational part of him chose that second to make an appearance, pushing down the building agitation.

What if she's asleep, it said. You know she hates it when you wake her up early. And do you really have an excuse ready?

He considered this. After a moment Skulduggery placed the device back in his pocket.

If Valkyrie needed him, he decided, she would call. They were partners, proper partners again. He ought not keep imposing himself on her for attention like that again.

He wondered how long it would take for her to make fun of him again. Or maybe she wouldn't mention it at all and they would both pretend he hadn't been behaving in a desperate fashion ever since her return.

_Like a drowning man missing land_

He leaned back in his chair. His thoughts had circled back to water again. How quaint.

Valkyrie had never asked him  _how_  he'd put himself back together.

_Phantom hands ghosted over his ribs_

She should have asked-

_A cooing, mocking whisper_

Because-

_Silver hair, a smirk_

He couldn't have done it by himself…

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Thanks for reading~
> 
> I actually forgot I wrote this but then I found it again and here it is!


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